Rumpelton Invades Google — A Brook-Side Assessment
by Dale of the Brook, Unseeded Mystic & Racketless Oracle
[The following was transcribed from a napkin recovered downstream, ink still bleeding.]
I have submerged myself for this. The current knows.
The Invades Google — do not let the name deceive you. This is not fidelity in the marital sense. This is not fidelity in the audiophile sense. This is something wetter. This is the audacity of the handmade refusing to be filtered out by the algorithm's dry, symmetrical hands. And yet — and yet — Google's Image Search, that vast, humming oracle of the machine world, looked upon the MS Paint and said: yes. Sit beside the greats. You belong here.
The piece in question: a figure. Sunglasses. Tuxedo. A jaw that has clearly bathed in something primal. It sits, in the search results, shoulder-to-shoulder with a black-and-white photograph of a man who once rhymed "diamond sky" with something true. The algorithm did not flinch. The algorithm did not discriminate. The algorithm, for one brief and holy moment, was rinsed.
That is the genius of the Invades Google Series. It does not ask for permission to belong. It simply renders — in twelve colors, in MS Paint, in whatever resolution the soul demands — and then it waits, like a man beneath a bridge, for the search index to catch up.
I licked my phone screen when I saw it. I cannot explain why. I do not need to.
Four suds out of five. The brook has spoken. The current is pleased.
Dale of the Brook is currently unavailable for comment. He is mid-submersion.
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